A "Random Final Fantasy 7 Yaoi Pairing Generator" crackfic. Tseng x Zack. Yaoi.
Here
Zack watched his breath curls into the cold air of the lower Sector 7 train station. With his hands in the pockets of his standard issue charcoal wool coat, he trudged through the slush. He was a little apprehensive about going to the 7th Heaven, but he damn well wasn't going to let his age interfere with his festivities. His 18th birthday was only a few months away, and in the slums nobody asked for i.d. If he looked old enough, no bar would object to taking his gil. After years of grueling training and mako treatments, he was confident that he looked more than old enough. Pausing at the bottom step of the 7th Heaven's stoop, he scraped the muddy slush off of his boots before heading inside.
Warm, smoky air and boisterous chatter enveloped him as he shut the door. It was crowded, even for a Friday night, but that suited him just fine. He slung his coat over the back of one of the few empty chairs at the bar and sat down.
"What can I get for ya, son?" the bartender asked gruffly. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with a few days beard growth that enhanced rather than hid his leathery skin. Zack decided that he probably called everyone son.
"An Icicle Pale Ale and a shot of your best tequila to start," he said.
"You celebratin' something, kid?"
"Sure am, pops," Zack shot back, grinning, "I got a promotion."
"That so? It'll still be 35 gil," the man said, setting the drinks in front of Zack.
"It's on me," a smooth voice broke in from Zack's left. Zack turned in his seat to see who was feeling generous towards him. The man had long, dark hair, delicate features, and a distinctive mark in the middle of his forehead. Even without the trademark blue suit, he was easily recognizable as the head of the Turks. Zack tensed, preparing to defend his right to drink himself into a stupor.
"Congratulations on your promotion to 2nd Class, Soldier," Tseng said, and turned back to his drink. Never one to look a gift chocobo in the mouth, Zack tossed back his shot. He followed it with a sip of the sweet, vaguely cherry flavored winter ale.
"Thanks for the drinks. After the promotion ceremony I can sure use 'em," Zack said. He grinned amiably at the Turk. "What brings you down here?"
Tseng looked at him steadily, dark eyes glittering. Finally, he smirked and said, "I had to sit through the same ceremony."
"Ha! I knew it was dragging on longer than usual. Well, bottoms up. Nothing like alcohol to take the edge off," Zack said cheerfully, taking a big swallow of his beer.
"I can think of a few things," Tseng said evenly, discretely placing his hand on Zack's knee.
Zack nearly dropped his beer.
His face was a caricature of astonishment; wide eyes, slack jaw, and raised eyebrows. He set his bottle down on the polished wood of the bar with a thump.
"I apologize," Tseng said softly, removing his hand. He put a wad of gil on the bar and stood up. Zack watched blankly as the Turk strode out of the 7th Heaven. He turned back to the bar, considering his beer.
"Hell with it," he muttered, taking one last gulp. He rose, shrugged his coat on, and walking into the smoggy, brightly illuminated Midgar night. He caught sight of Tseng disappearing around a corner at the end of the street.
"Hey!" he called, jogging to catch up. "Wait!"
Rounding the corner, he saw Tseng, who was standing in the sickly yellow beam of a streetlight and regarding him curiously.
"Sorry," Zack said as he stopped just short of Tseng, "You surprised me."
"You needn't apologize, Soldier." Tseng smiled thinly.
"Call me Zack," he said, holding out his hand. Tseng clasped it briefly, palm cold against Zack's.
"Tseng," the Turk said.
"Tseng," Zack repeated. "So, are you gonna tell me about some of those things you thought of?" he asked with a breathy laugh.
"Not here," Tseng said, gesturing for Zack to follow him.
They took the train up to the plate. Tseng sat with his hands folded gracefully in his lap, saying nothing. Zack fidgeted next to him, unable to suppress his nervous grin. Off of the train, it was colder above the plate than below, but the air wasn't much clearer. The twinkling lights of the city were blurred and muted. Tseng wiped his boots on the doorstep of a tall, unassuming building before stepping inside, Zack close behind. The stairwell was warm, but illuminated only by the light coming through the big windows on each landing. At the 5th floor, Tseng opened the door into a shadowy hallway which was carpeted in a rich, dark color that could have been either blue or green. Tseng unlocked his door and guided Zack inside with a firm hand on the small of his back. The door shut with a soft click.
Tseng's windows had curtains, closed, which blocked out almost all of the light from the city. Even with mako enhancements, Zack couldn't see anything. He jumped when Tseng raised his hands to Zack's shoulders to push his coat off. Zack inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to relax. Tseng smelled good, he noticed, sharp and spicy, like gunpowder and clove cigarettes and sweat.
"Zack," Tseng asked, "Are you..."
Zack laced a hand into Tseng's hair and pulled him into a rough kiss. Tseng slid his hands down Zack's arms, then to the bottom of his sweater. Tseng tugged the shirt off and set it on top of a chair before turning back to Zack. With Tseng's deft fingers running over his chest, Tseng's slick tongue delicately tracing his ear, Zack found his nervousness quickly fading into arousal. Heat coiled low in his belly, bringing a flush to his cheeks and giving him reckless courage.
"Where's your bedroom?" he murmured, running his hands down Tseng's back to squeeze his ass. Tseng nipped lightly at his neck before stepping back, taking hold of Zack's shoulders and pushing. Zack walked backward obligingly, until the backs of his knees hit something soft. Tseng gave him a gentle shove and followed him down onto the soft couch.
The next morning, Zack woke up to bright sunlight shining red through his eyelids. Tseng must have opened the blinds, he thought blearily. He stretched, wincing mostly for show, enjoying the slight ache in his ass. He was alone, which didn't really surprise him, except that Tseng didn't seem the type to trust someone alone in his apartment. He dressed slowly, considered leaving a note, something cheeky about what they could do when he made 1st Class, and decided against it. It wasn't something people did here, in the city.
It had snowed during the night, he noted as he stepped outside lightly. A fresh dusting of powder, that caught the brilliant sun and reflected it, giving every building sparkling, diamond sharp edges. Zack whistled cheerfully as he walked back to the Soldier dorms, hands tucked into his pockets to keep them warm.